


The Best Written Tragedy

by Dragonlingdar



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlingdar/pseuds/Dragonlingdar
Summary: No matter how many centuries Simeon lived, he would never be able to write a tragedy as exquisite as the ones humans wrote for themselves.





	The Best Written Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oneoff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoff/gifts).



> I do not claim to be the best at writing Simeon, but hopefully you will find this at least entertaining.
> 
> As an aside, I am not your assigned creator; nevertheless, I hope you are satisfied by my offering as well.
> 
> As I am from ye olde age of fandom: Nothing Octopath Traveler belongs to me.

Humans were such stupid, tragic creatures, and the centuries had honed Simeon’s skill at picking out the ones that would provide him with the most entertainment. 

The gods knew that Primrose Azelhart had delivered beyond his wildest expectations. The  _ hatred _ and sorrow in her eyes as she stood before him, her hands drenched in the blood of his brethren, was exquisite. 

“Primrose,” he purred, looking up from his latest theatrical script. “To what do I owe this  _ honor _ ?”

“I found you,” she said, her voice low. “After almost ten years,  _ I found you _ .”

“And you did  _ wonderfully _ ,” Simeon replied with a languid smile. “How many bodies have you left in your wake, hm? Five? Ten? One hundred?”

“Does it matter?” Primrose responded. 

“Oh, it very much does,” Simeon said, leaning his chin on the back of his hands as his elbows were propped against his writing table. “Humans aren’t meant to be killers. A part of you must have died with each vampire you slew.”

“You’re nothing but leeches,” Primrose snapped. “Parasites. I took pleasure in putting you down.”

“Oh? Is that so? Awful human-looking for leeches, aren’t we, Miss Azehlhart? And what if you were wrong, once or twice? What if, instead of killing a vampire, you killed a human?”

“I was careful,” Primrose responded, although there was that flicker of uncertainty that Simeon saw in every vampire hunter’s eyes that betrayed that they, too, feared that they had made a mistake somewhere along the line in their zealous quest to end a vampire’s unnatural life. 

“I’m sure,” Simeon chuckled. “Before you set about trying to kill me, please, take a seat. We have some catching up to do, don’t we?”

“No. I’m done talking with you,” Primrose said.

Simeon’s smile widened. “Look at you! You’ve grown so  _ strong _ , so  _ cold _ . And yet, you speak with me in spite of your declaration. Why? Is it because of our history? Because I was the only friend of a young, lonely, isolated girl who--”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Primrose snarled.

The young woman did manage to surprise Simeon by actually trying to kill him. Time and training had made her limber and light on her feet, and Simeon laughed when she landed perfectly on his writing desk and tried to kick him. 

He dodged out of the way and tsked. “Why, Primrose, how inconsiderate! I’ve been working on that draft for  _ weeks _ .”

“Says the creature who has lived for centuries,” Primrose spat and jumped down, her father’s dagger unsheathed in her right hand. “What is a few weeks to something like you?”

“Some _ thing _ ? I’m wounded!”  
  
“If only,” Primrose drawled in return and pursued him. 

“How did it feel, Primrose, killing your own father?” Simeon said. “That was one of the greatest scenes I’ve ever written! The  _ agony _ on your face was exquisite.”

“Don’t you even  _ speak _ of him!” Primrose snarled back, but Simeon caught the echoes of the pain in her eyes. “You turned him into a monster! And for what? Because he came too close to the truth! To the truth of who and what you are!”

“One...by...one...your friends fell to me,” Simeon said. “Never to death, but to undeath. To have to kill Yusufa. Arianna. Revello. How many of your fellow travelers did you have to sacrifice to achieve your ultimate goal?”

“Shut up!” Primrose responded, her voice breaking even as her movements remained sure. 

Simeon laughed as she managed to cut off the tie on his braid, his hair unraveling slightly due to no longer being held fast. “Your anger hides your grief! You  _ hate _ yourself, don’t you? Hate what you had to do?”

“I did what I must!”

“You never wanted your revenge, did you? You have never really moved past that little girl crying out for her father.”

Primrose yelled in a combination of rage and  _ agony _ and Simeon was both astonished and pleased at how she managed to embed her dagger in his left shoulder. Unfortunately for her, that brought her close enough to his body that he could grab her waist with one hand and grab her hair with the other, pulling into a slight dip.

“That’s right! Show it to me! Show me your  _ beautiful _ tragedy.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Primrose choked out, tears in her eyes.

“And then what? What will you live for, once I am gone?” he asked. “Your hatred has burned for me so long and so  _ hot _ . It has kept you warm on lonely nights, the thought of my blood rushing over your hands, hasn’t it?”

“Your breath stinks,” Primrose snarled. She pivoted and stomped on his instep as she twisted the dagger and and pulled it up and out of his shoulder. With the follow-through movement, she brought the dagger across his neck, although her angle wasn’t good enough for her to even come close to severing his head, instead only dealing a superficial wound that nonetheless caused his blood to flow freely. It stained the white of his shirt and the motion of her dagger made a line of his blood cross her face, dark red spatter against her pale skin.

She was beautiful in her despair.

Simeon hadn’t let go of her, so she brought her dagger down on the arm holding her waist, and even though the stump of his forearm fell to his side, his hand still clung to the fabric of her shirt. He still held fast to her hair, so when she pulled away, her dagger came up again and left him without his other forearm. Simeon had never been one to fight with his hands, so he wouldn’t miss them and his body would repair itself with time anyway. His words had always been his most potent weapon.

Simeon evaded what Primrose had most likely hoped would be a final strike and gave her a smile. “Look at your handiwork!” he said and proudly displayed the bleeding stumps of his arms to her. “You truly have become an excellent hunter, keeping your blade so sharp. I barely felt it!”

“You’ll feel nothing at all once I have my blade buried in your heart.”

The wooden floor was becoming slick with his blood as they moved, Simeon keeping himself just barely out of reach of her desperately desired finishing blow.

“Is this how you killed your friends? Piece by piece until they were a broken marionette on the floor?” Simeon asked.

“If that was what it took,” Primrose answered, her voice grim and determined as she pursued him. 

He was delightfully surprised by her ingenuity when she threw his inkwell at him, the black liquid splashing against his face, which provided just enough of a distraction for her to dart in and embed her dagger in his heart.

It wasn’t enough to kill him, merely paralyze him, but it was an odd sensation, feeling a body that had been so trustworthy for so long finally giving out on him. 

He watched as she knelt over him placing one knee on his sternum and pushed his head back to fully expose his throat.

“For all the pain you caused. For all the misery you have inflicted on me and countless other people. This is my revenge, and retribution for all others who have tried to kill you before me,” she whispered before she pulled out a second dagger--one with the crest of House Azelhart, one that Simeon recognized from all her ancestor’s weapons. 

In spite of his paralysis, he managed to laugh until a final, complete darkness claimed him.


End file.
